Tropics has a minion!

Neo and Isla the Lovely Flamingo Couple

His coat had all the ocean's shimmering shades of blue. He stood at the water's edge, his sand-colored paws not quite crossing the line between land and water. Tourists passed by in their brightly colored swimsuits, their high spirits made obvious by their excited babble. They rarely noticed the beach-dwelling dog, so intent were they on getting their ice cream before the lines got too long.

Those that did see the flick of an ear or the sweep of a plumed tail often had to do a double take. His was a natural camouflage to make a chameleon jealous.

Nobody seemed to know where he'd come from. Even the year-long residents were baffled at the origins of the happy-go-lucky dog that would sit with his tongue lolling and his ears tilted as he watched the evening bar visitors. They would work their way through lemon drops and margaritas and the ever-popular Bahama Mamas that were the drink of choice at the Paradise Hotel, making up names for him as one friendly dog multiplied to three through the skills of a master bartender.

He would never refuse a gift of food offered by a kind hand though he shied away from cars. People had tried to lure him into cages in the past. To be away from his beach home, confined in some smelly human dwelling for even one night, had nearly broken his heart. The sea caves and long stretch of sand were more than just the place he lived. They were his natural habitat and the home address of his many animal friends.

The gulls were a constant presence, a noisy gang of food snatchers to be tolerated. Much more welcome were the jungle birds that would come to the edge of the tree line to gossip and trade tropical fruits for bits of seashell that Tropics would carefully carry up the beach in his jaw. The shiny shells could give a lonely male an edge over the competition or give a female something lovely with which to decorate her nest.

He saved the best shells for Neo and Isla. The flamingo pair had found him snuffling in the surf when he was a mere pup. Impatiently awaiting the arrival of their first cluster of chicks, they had taken it upon themselves to help Tropics sort out the confusing new bouquet of scents always trickling into his nose. They'd helped him learn the language of the birds and even taught him a few words in Fishian. (It's really not hard to learn since most of the words either directly or partially relate to food.) In return for their kindness, Tropics curled up at the side of their nest, allowing his strong doggie odor to discourage scavengers. He was patient when the young hatchlings plucked at his fur and climbed all over him. He watched with pride when they took flight for the first time.

Also dear to him was Pewter the gecko. The descendant of a scaly-skinned passenger aboard a pirate ship, the brave little lizard never tired of telling tales from the high seas that had been passed down through the generations. At night when the humans had vanished into their seaside resorts, Tropics would wander over to the forgotten cave once known as Hidden Treasure Cove. Pewter had collected quite the impressive pile of junk in the forms of discarded pop cans, buttons and little plastic key chains, many of them shaped like palm trees. Any human bold (or foolish) enough to bumble into Pewter's lair would quickly leave, convinced they'd discovered nothing more than the local garbage dump. Little did they know that Pewter was guarding a real treasure after all. Deep beneath the sand lay the treasure chest of Captain Bayerd. Tropics was amused by the descriptions of rubies the size of hen eggs and golden crowns welded to fit a giant but he could hardly be bothered to dig so deep for something of so little value. What could a dog want with such trinkets, except to chew on? There were plenty of good bones left by the pampered pups of the tourists.

The one kind of neighbor he was always wary to approach were the creatures he thought of as the nose-pinchers. Crab or lobster, it made no difference. One painful encounter at a young age had given him hearty respect for those hard-shelled ocean dwellers that could narrow the world to a hazy bolt of pain with a single snap of the claw.

He loved everything about his beach home but his absolute favorite part of the day was always that magical hour between sunset and the coming of night when he could sit on the flat rock just inside the driftwood fence and watch the sun slowly sink beneath the waves. Unlike most dogs, he could see in color and he delighted in the fiery display that made the surface of the water come alive in a million tiny stars that would wink out and leave the ocean black as the true stars blinked to life and removed the barrier between sky and sea, turning the whole world into one grand globe of light-speckled wonder.

Credits

Story by Pureflower
Art by Zan
Overlay by Beckyyy
Palm Tree by Annalise Batista (AnnaliseArt) at Pixabay
Palm Tree 2 by CLKER-FREE-VECTOR-IMAGES at Pixabay
Crab by Openclipart at Pixabay
Profile by Sunrise